


Prank Wars

by brooklyn09



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Prank Wars, Pranks and Practical Jokes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 05:37:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15017813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brooklyn09/pseuds/brooklyn09
Summary: What started out as a bit of fun has turned into an all out war of one-upmanship. Who will surrender first? Some light and fluffy Mystrade.





	1. Chapter 1

It started innocently enough. Mycroft had been dragging that morning. He had been working long hours and getting home late. Greg understood that his husband's job was very important, and Mycroft was a perfectionist. Anything he did was done well. Nevertheless, Greg was feeling a little neglected. So when he checked on Mycroft in the shower that morning and found him lightly dozing while standing, he decided it was time to take drastic measures and make his husband see that he could not continue on like this. And Greg thought of a sure fire way to get his lover's attention. Filling a glass with ice cold water, Greg tossed it into the shower, splattering Mycroft's back. Mycroft let out a yell, arched his back and stood ramrod straight, awareness coming to him with a start. He turned to find Greg watching him sheepishly, trying to hide the glass from his view. "Gregory! What in the world was that for?!" Greg had the decency to look repentant.

"Sorry love. It looked like you had fallen asleep. Didn't want you to be late for work." Greg had a hard time hiding a smirk. 

"I wasn't sleeping," Mycroft responded. "Just resting my eyes."

"Yeah, right Myc. Whatever you say. Come along now, get dressed. Breakfast is waiting for you downstairs." And with that, Greg left the bathroom, and Mycroft's head churned with ideas. 

XXXX

The rest of their morning passed without incident. Mycroft put together some snacks for Greg, he knew his husband often got engrossed in his work and didn't take necessary breaks. Mycroft had access to all sorts of refreshments at his office, unfortunately New Scotland Yard didn't provide their employees the same. 

They departed with a shared kiss on their doorstep, each getting in their respective cars and heading for work. 

XXXX

Around 11 that morning Greg was getting distracted by his hunger pains and decided to take a quick break. Pulling out the bag Mycroft packed for him, he opened it and selected a powdered vanilla creme donut, his favorite. He took a large bite, and immediately began to gag. "What in the hell?" he asked. He scraped some of the filling out with his finger and took a whiff. It smelled like...... No, it can't be...... He touched his finger to his tongue and his fears were confirmed. Mayonnaise. Mycroft!!!! Oh, this was war. Game on. Greg dumped the rest of the contents of the bag on his desk. Carrot sticks, an apple, some crackers. And a note. Greg opened the missive and couldn't help but smile as he read it - 

'Payback's a bitch, dear. See you at home tonight. And may the best man win!' 

To be continued....


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their prank war continues....

Greg didn't mention anything about his inedible donut when he saw Mycroft later that evening. This was going to be part of his strategy - to pretend that everything was fine and Mycroft's prank didn't bother him. He had spent the rest of his afternoon thinking of an appropriate response, and had an epiphany while sitting in a boring staff meeting. He could hardly contain himself, practically vibrating with glee, planning out his next prank. And this weekend would provide him with the perfect opportunity. 

They were spending the weekend at their country home. They had arrived late on Friday night, and for Saturday had planned to drive into the nearest village for a local festival. Mycroft was going to drive one of his most prized possessions, a 1983 Aston Martin V8 Vantage. When he first learned how to drive, this was the model of car he coveted. There was no way he could afford such a remarkable car at that age though. But when he got older, he located one for sale and bought it without hesitation. It was garaged at their home in the country and driven with reverence.  


When they arrived in the village, Mycroft parked the car in an out of the way spot, where no one was likely to door bang him. They walked hand in hand down the sidewalk, browsing through what the street vendors had to offer.

"Oi. Hold up a minute, " said Greg, patting down his pockets. "I must have left my wallet in the car. Give me a sec, I'm going back for it. Keys, please?" 

Tossing Greg the keys Mycroft asked, "Do you want me to come with you?" 

"No, no, that's fine, I'll just be a minute. Wait here, I'll be back in a sec. " Greg turned and jogged back to the car. 

He returned a few minutes later and found Mycroft flipping through some old books. Tapping his husband on the shoulder he announced "I'm back!" and flashed his wallet and his winning smile. They continued on their way and enjoyed their leisurely morning. 

They returned to the car a few hours later. As he was getting in the driver's side, Mycroft's attention was drawn to a piece of paper stuck under the wiper blade. 

"WHAT???" Mycroft roared, throwing the paper to the ground and running his hands frantically along the car. Greg reached down to read what was on the paper, even though he already knew.

"Sorry about the dent. Call me and we'll work something out. Hugh G. Rection 07947 483921."

Mycroft was furiously inspecting his car, looking for a non existent dent. Greg hadn't seen him this worked up in quite a while. He decided his prank had gone on long enough and wanted to put his husband out of his misery. Greg stepped away from the car and turning his back, called Mycroft's cell. Mycroft was so preoccupied with his car, he didn't even check the caller ID. 

"Yes, what is it?" he barked.

"Hello, this is Mr. Hugh G. Rection. " said Greg, trying, and failing to disguise his voice due to a giggle fit. 

Mycroft looked up, realizing at once what had happened. Greg was bent over, laughing hysterically. "Oh," he hiccupped. " You should see your face!" 

"There is no dent, is there Gregory?" simmered Mycroft, with all the control he could muster. "You are a wretched, wretched man. I should leave you here and make you walk home."

"I'm sorry. I couldn't resist, " said Greg, catching his breath. "No harm done, eh? Your car is fine. But really, I wish I recorded your reaction to the note. That was pure gold!!"

"In the car Gregory, " ordered Mycroft, as he made his way to the driver's side. "Just remember who started this little game" he said as he slammed his door.

Greg knew he'd have to be on alert. Mycroft would not let this go unpunished. But it would be totally worth it he decided. 

XXXX

Greg waited and waited for Mycroft's retribution, but nothing happened. His hyper awareness was starting to wear on him. Maybe Mycroft forgot? He doubted it. Mycroft had the memory of an elephant. He never forgot anything. 

One morning several weeks later Mycroft was ready to leave shortly after Greg got out of bed. Pecking his husband on the cheek goodbye, Mycroft promised to try to get home at a decent hour that night. He left a bag of snacks for Greg to take to work like he usually did. 

After Mycroft left, Greg emptied the bag to check it's contents. Granola bar, yogurt and crackers, all in their original sealed packaging. Ok, he didn't mess with my snacks again, Greg thought. He proceeded to get ready for work, expecting something to jump out of his closet, or maybe for the hot water in the shower to be turned off. But nothing untoward happened. 

Greg was driving to work mentally reviewing his schedule for the day when the car behind him honked. Greg looked in his rearview mirror and saw the car was passing him. Pulling up alongside him, the driver of the other car, an attractive blonde, waved her fingers at him and blew him a kiss before driving away. Odd, Greg thought. But not unwelcome. Even though he was far from interested, it was nice to be noticed in that way. 

He continued on his way when another car passed by, honking, and the passenger, a kid this time, waved at him. Greg was perplexed. Was this some kind of "be nice to random strangers day" that no one told him about? It seems like there's a day for everything these days. 

Several more drivers honked and waved at him before he got to New Scotland Yard. He decided to pass it along to a car he passed, a burly old man who looked none too happy at being honked at. Hmm. He must not have gotten the memo, Greg thought, smiling to himself. He pulled into the car park with Sally pulling in right behind him. 

"Guv, what's this?" she called, pulling a sign off the back of his car - 

"Please honk and wave. He doesn't know this is here."

"Bugger!" Greg yelled. " He got me!"

"Who got you?" asked Sally, confused. 

"Oh, never mind! Come on, I've got revenge to plan!" Greg yanked the sign out of her hands and a bewildered Sally followed her boss into the Yard, thinking the poor man had finally lost it.


End file.
